Connections in Blue and Bronze
by Hogwarts Online II
Summary: The first Ravenclaw House collaboration written for the Hogwarts Online Forum. Each House member chose a Ravenclaw, and had to write a series of three linking stories featuring them and a member of each of the other houses. We hope you enjoy them!
1. Cho Chang by Emily Snow

**Connections in Blue and Bronze**

_Welcome to the first Ravenclaw House collaboration written for the Hogwarts Online Forum. Each House member chose a Ravenclaw, and was given three other characters, one from each of the three lesser houses. The brief was to write a series of three linking stories featuring the Ravenclaw and the three others. We hope you enjoy it. _

_Please read and review._

_**Cho Chang**_

_(with Severus Snape, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory)_

_by_

_Emily Snow_

**Part 1 **

Professor Severus Snape was currently reeling off a short yet crucial lecture about the tips and tricks in potion making. Mostly everyone listened intently to this apart a couple of drowsy students who were nodding off to sleep. A handful of people were writing down notes and one of those people was Cho Chang.

As much as she disliked Professor Snape, she loved the concept of potions and how by simply following a few directions and grabbing a couple of ingredients, you could create something that could aid you in simple climaxes. Of course, some potions were much more complex and intricate but Cho loved making these potions too. She usually did very well in her potions (but not as good as Hermione Granger, she had heard) which was one of the reasons Professor Snape didn't like her or dislike her.

After the Professor had announced their task (he had hinted that it may contribute to their end of year result if done well) she set off to work immediately. She worked fast and swiftly but didn't dare to make a mistake. Her friend, Marietta Edgecombe, was a little more careless and slow as Potions was one of her most hated subjects (have a guess why).

When the Potions Master came over, he sniffed Marietta's cauldron and gave her a sharp, harsh comment about her lack of work. When he did the same with Cho's cauldron, he didn't say anything. But his frown disappeared which meant he was satisfied with her work.

She let herself smile a bit, a little happy with her work also.

"How come he doesn't say anything about yours?" Marietta moaned. She peered inside Cho's cauldron. "It's a horrible brown colour!"

"It's meant to be brown, Marietta." Cho said patiently.

"Oh." She blinked, glancing at her neon green liquid. Cho continued with her work and tried her hardest to make her potion perfect. It was more difficult that she had thought but, she had to do her best. She was a Ravenclaw after all.

She couldn't help glancing at her friend's potion. She had messed it up horribly and was trying hard to make it right. She kept stirring and stirring but it looked like it the potion was getting stiffer and stiffer every time she stirred. Then, her spoon suddenly halted in the middle of the cauldron.

Even though she probably wasn't allowed to, Cho quickly added some powdered birch tree bark to her cauldron. Professor Snape didn't see. The solid went runny which Marietta was grateful for.

"Thanks." She whispered. "You're the best Cho."

Cho smiled at her, resuming to her potion. After a small explosion and a couple of detentions being issued, Professor Snape said that it was time to fill their vials with some of their liquid, put their names on it and leave it on his desk.

Cho did as he asked and then exited the cold dungeons.

HP

**Part 2 **

Cho was hurrying to her next class after taking a detour into the girls toilets (she hadn't realised that it Moaning Myrtle's bathroom) and in her haste, she hadn't noticed someone was walking in the other direction at the same speed.

So they collided.

"Ah!" Cho fell over onto the hard stone floor and her books escaped from her bag. One of them had managed to slip through the gaps in the railings of the stairs and it fell until Cho heard it crash on the floor a couple of levels down. She cursed mentally as she started gathering up the rest of her books. It wasn't until now when she realised the person she had collided into was Harry Potter.

Her eyes met his and she flushed with embarrassment. Harry blushed a little too.

"Er, sorry Cho. I wasn't looking where I was going." Harry apologised, feeling awkward. She sent him a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, I'm sorry too. I wasn't looking where I was going either." She said. She began putting her books back in her bag when she realised she had to somehow get her book from downstairs. She was going to be so late for her next class. She got up, letting out a gentle sigh and then received a surprise.

Harry was holding out her missing book to her.

She blinked, confused.

"How did you-?"

"A simple summoning charm," Harry explained. Cho took her book back, muttering a word of thanks. He couldn't help adding: "The one I used for the First Challenge..."

"Expect that wasn't so simple." She pointed out, giggling. "I forgot to tell you before, but it was very impressive! I had a little trouble with Summoning charms."

"Well, it wasn't all me, Hermione helped me out a bit." Harry said modestly. Instantly, Cho's heart seemed to sink. Her face must showed that was so because Harry seemed to realise what he said was a mistake.

"Uh, so Cho..." Harry started. "I was w-wondering if...you...you..."

"Yes?" Cho prompted Harry hopefully. Was he going to ask her to the Yule Ball? Hopefully...

"You knew what powdered birch tree bark did." Harry rapidly blurted out. Cho was a little disappointed.

"It makes most potions runny and thinner but it might make other potions explode." She answered, a little dejectedly. "I need to go to Transfiguration now. See you around, Harry!" she rushed off, leaving Harry murmuring an unhappy goodbye.

**Part Three **

It was Supper Time at Hogwarts and everyone was happily enjoying the delicious feast served. Cho was sitting at the Ravenclaw Table eating with her friends who were gossiping about someone she didn't know. But she listened anyway. Sometimes, her mind drifted to who might be taking her to the Yule Ball. She had already received many offers from people she simply disliked or hadn't even met before.

"So, then she called me a Mandrake! I was like 'what?' and she told me that my voice was similar to Mandrake's screaming!"

"She's so mean!"

"Cho?" Cho turned around; a little glad she had an excuse not to listen to the conversation. It was Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff. She found him incredibly handsome and he was rather nice too.

"Hi, Cedric." She greeted him.

"Hey...Cho, I was wondering if you'll like to go the Yule Ball with me." Cedric sounded much more confident than Harry, Cho noticed. She glanced at the Gryffindor Table and saw Harry talking to Ron. She swivelled her eyes back to Cedric.

"Sure, that sounds great." She beamed at him.

"Great! I finally have an excuse to say to girls who keep asking me to ask _them_ to the Yule Ball." Cedric chuckled. Cho giggled, mostly for his sake.

"Same here." Cho agreed, though she wasn't being entirely honest. I mean, there was one boy she wished would ask her to be his date for the Yule Ball. After a bit of conversation, one of Cedric's friends started calling for him so he bid goodbye to Cho.

"Did Cedric just ask you to go to the Yule Ball with him?" Marietta asked Cho, excitedly. She nodded.

"You're so lucky!" Marietta had a tone of envy in her voice.

"Hmm." Cho couldn't help feeling terrible for Harry. He was going to ask her out, wasn't he? Why on earth would he want to know what powdered birch tree bark did? He'll probably find someone else anyway. I mean, she wasn't the only girl he liked surely?

She looked at the Gryffindor Table again and caught Harry's eye. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

Uh...


	2. Victoire Weasley by greencyanide

_**Victoire Weasley**_

_(with Charlie Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks and Horace Slughorn)_

_by_

_greencyanide (Sanjana)_

The room seemed too crowded today, and Victoire felt like punching Michael in the face as he asked her to dance for the sixth time.

"No, Michael, I don't want to dance tonight, I have a headache!" she snapped.

It was partly true, nowadays she had the headache twenty four seven. But tonight she needed to think. She needed sometime to herself, to arrange her thoughts. As she settled in a corner, Shelby Crawford gave her a knowing look, and Victoire felt like throwing the glass at her face. She loathed to admit that her best friend was right. _You will end up hurt, Vic, he's a heart-breaker,_ Shelby had said wisely.

Well, too bad she didn't care. If Teddy wanted to go on some stupid round-the-globe trip of enlightenment, so be it. She was not going to stay back and sob it out. But she knew that wasn't it. She knew what was bothering her. She was saying stupid things about him being irresponsible and that was when he said it.

_Victoire, you don't understand. You know what, you're such a pretty face, you'd never have to. You just have to smile and the world will come praying at your feet. You don't need to look beyond_, he had said.

Well, as they say, truth hurts more. She didn't need to look beyond, but it was not as if he had to either. He lived a good life too, and not to mention, hordes of girls swooned at his feet too. And that's why she felt more scornful, because of his holier-than-thou attitude. What made him feel he was so special?

Slughorn came barging in. "Miss Weasley? What is a pretty girl like you doing in a corner? Not enjoying the company?"

"It's okay, Professor. I just don't feel that well, tonight."

"Not staying up late, studying are you? No, no, dear that won't do."

Victoire squirmed a little. As Slughorn went on about the good effects of sleep, she asked, "Professor Slughorn, why did you invite me to join the club?"

Slughorn looked a little taken aback. "Why you're.. you're a pretty, young witch, who wouldn't want you in the club?"

Victoire made up an excuse to leave early, and cried into her pillow for about an hour. Teddy was right.

Well, too bad she didn't care. If Teddy wanted to go on some stupid round the globe trip of enlightenment, so be it. She was not going to stay back and sob it out. She'd study hard and get more NEWTs than him and shove it in his face. She'd show him she was not just a pretty face!

**x x x x x x**

Victoire shoved her food around the plate, and ignored her mother's warning glances. Well the house was full of guests, she won't make a scene in front of everyone.

"Hey, it doesn't look nice, you know."

Victoire was appalled at the person who said this.

"That's rich, coming from you," she said, scowling at Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie just laughed. _It is so annoying when people laughed at insults_, she thought, scowling some more.

"Teddy told me," he said.

"So?" she asked, bristled at his sympathetic expression. He didnt expect her to break down and cry, did he?

"Nothing. Just wanted you to know, that I'm here if you need to talk."

"What's to talk about? He wants to be Magellan. And I don't care."

Somehow this striked as funny to Uncle Charlie and he said, "Vic, did he tell you why he wants to go explore the world?"

"He wants to look _beyond_."

"Yes that. But there's also another reason."

"What? Let me guess, he is tired of safe, sanitary bathrooms and wants to do it in a swamp full of mosquitoes," she said with scorn.

"That's be interesting, but no."

"Then what is it?"

Uncle Charlie looked at her for a few moment, before saying, "Because of his mother."

Victoire sat upright. "His mother? But she's.."

"Dead, yes. But her dream is not, apparently."

"What dream?"

"Well, pretty much the one Teddy wants to pursue."

Victoire did not know how to react.

"But it's not his dream, is it? Lots of us have unfulfilled dreams. I'm sure his mum wouldn't want him go travelling through dangerous forests because it was her dream. Even she didn't pursue it."

Uncle Charlie looked sober. "Oh, Vic. If you don't want to understand, no one can make you. But maybe this is his only chance of sort of connecting with her. He was a tot when his parents died. Vic, don't be stubbourn."

Victoire sat stolid. She did not get it - she loved Teddy, if she was ever sure of anything, it was this. And she knew Teddy loved her back, as well. No matter how hard he tried, no matter which peak he climbed - he wouldn't be able to get his parents back. So, did it really make sense to leave your loved ones behind to try to catch a mirage?

Uncle Charlie must have been observing him. "You know what, I have something that'll help you understand. Come on."

After dinner, Victoire followed Uncle Charlie to her father's room. Uncle Charlie cast a Muffliato Charm on the door, and pulled open the cabinet below Dad's study table.

A glowing pedestal emerged and as Victoire stepped closer, she gasped.

"Oh my God! Dad keeps a Pensive?" she asked shocked.

"Hey, don't tell him I showed you. Now, here's what I wanted to show you," he said, touching the tip of his wand to his temples. He pulled out a glimmering, wispy thread out of his forehead and set it afloat in the shimmering liquid of the Pensive.

"Take a look," he said, stepping aside.

**x x x x x x**

Victoire fell on the hard stone floor, but surprisingly it did not hurt at all. She scrambled to her feet, brushing her skirt when she saw a girl sitting in a corner, with her face buried in her hands. By the look of her hunched, shaking form, it was clear that she was crying.

Victoire realised it was the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, and it was dead of the night. She was about to approach the girl, when she heard the aound of feet bounding up the stairs. She flinched and started to run, but then she realized she was in the Pensive and no one could see her.

"Tonks!" shouted a boy, from the stairs.

"Go away!" shouted the girl back, tossing her bubblegum pink hair out of her eyes.

Young Charlie sat down beside her, and gingerly reached out to touch her arm, but thought better of it.

"What is it, Tonks? You know you can tell me," said Charlie, gently.

Suddenly Tonks jumped on her feet.

"Do you know what's wrong with them? They're all bloody scared!" she shouted, throwing her arms up in the air.

Charlie seemed to wait for her to vent out more.

"They think I can't take care of myself. I _am_ of age, ain't i? I _am_ taking the NEWTS, ain't I?"

"Tonks, it's natural. My Mom cried for hours when I said I'm going to Romania to work with dragons. They'll relent, eventually."

"No, they wont. I know it. They have talked to Dumbledore, so that I don't run away. Is that what they expect of me? That I'd run away? I'm clumsy, I'm impulsive, but I'm _not_ irresponsible!" shouted Tonks, at the top of her voice.

With all that shouting, she suddenly looked tired. She dejectedly walked back to her place and slid down the wall, beside Charlie.

She sat in silence, while Charlie fiddled with his wand.

"You know, they have always wanted me to be an Auror and... I have never known a time when I didn't think of being one. I never afforded myself the freedom to weigh other options, because I can't let them down," said Tonks slowly.

"If you had the option would you have wanted to be something else?" asked Charlie, tentatively.

"Who knows. Maybe," sighed Tonks, staring at the starry sky.

Charlie stood up and walk towards the balcony overlooking the grounds. "It's going to dawn soon. We better get back," he said non-chalantly.

Tonks didn't seem to hear. She whispered, "I let them choose my ambition, my life. They can't let me have a single year of it?"

Victoire felt air swooshing past her ear, as if it was being sucked away. The sorrouding contorted, and squeezed away from her. Before she could realize what happened, she had landed on her bottom on the floor of her father's bedroom.

Victoire took her time standing up. Uncle Charlie, the older self, was looking at her, his arms crossed.

She shuffled across the room, and pulled open the window. She could see a familiar starry sky.

"I never asked him why he wanted to go, you know. I was too angry that he was going to leave me alone for a year. And I was scared for him," she said out to the night air.

When she fell silent, Uncle Charlie said, "So, did you change your mind?"

Victoire did not turn towards him when she nodded - she did not want him to see her tears. Somehow he understood.

She waited till she heard the door click shut, before collapsing on the bed crying.


	3. Michael Corner by Toffrox33

**Hinting, helping, healing**

_**Michael Corner**_

_(with Horace Slughorn, Rose Zeller and Dean Thomas)_

_by_

_Toffrox33_

_-Part One: Hinting_

Michael Corner hurried down the stairs to the dungeons, clutching his potions book in one hand and his wand in the other. He felt nervous. They'd been here not one week and already students had been tortured by the new teachers.

Last year, Michael hadn't minded leaving home during a war. Last year, Michael had felt safe in the knowledge that he was able to spend the whole year in the safest place in the country. But with Dumbledore gone and Snape there to replace him, Hogwarts was the last place Michael wanted to spend his year.

He reached the potions classroom and relaxed a little. There had been no nasty encounters in the corridors. He walked into the classroom and took a seat where he could clearly see the whole room.

"Who's there?" Slughorn came running into the classroom, wand drawn. "Oh, Corner, it's just you."

"Yes. Sorry Sir. I got here a little early." Michael said. "The Carrows are in the Great Hall." He added quietly. Slughorn winced and nodded understandingly.

"Right. Of course." He said nervously. "Well, no need to set your cauldron up yet boy, just take a seat." He smiled half-heartedly and sat down at his desk.

Michael sat down at his desk and opened his potions book, pulling out an old folded up page of _The Daily Prophet_ into. On it was a list of the muggle-borns the ministry was looking for. As Michael re-read it, his eyes lingered on the names of fellow students.

"You're not expecting to get news from that thing, are you?" Slughorn said suddenly, noticing the newspaper Michael held.

"Ah, no. This is an old issue." Michael said, surprised. Slughorn nodded. There was an awkward pause. Michael frowned to himself. All summer long his father had complained about how little the _Prophet_ was saying about the war. He looked up at Slughorn. "Professor… Sir, is there any way, that you know of, to find out the truth about what's going on?"

Slughorn stared at him as if he'd just uncovered a secret he wasn't supposed to know about. Michael stared back hopefully.

"Well-" Slughorn began, just as the door opened and Draco Malfoy slid in. Immediately Slughorn stopped talking and looked away. Michael slumped in disappointment and glared across the room at Malfoy…

But as the lesson ended, about an hour later, Slughorn walked by Michael's desk, dropping a slip of parchment on top of his book. Frowning, Michael picked it up and read it.

'_Channel 7. Password- phoenix'_

Michael looked up at Slughorn, who met his gaze, pointedly adjusting the position of a small wireless on his desk. Michael widened his eyes and looked back down at the parchment.

"Mr Corner," Slughorn called, as Michael left the classroom. Michael looked back at him questioningly. "Be sure to clean up after yourself, won't you?" He said sternly. Michael nodded and gave the professor a quick smile, already planning to burn the parchment once he'd committed the words to memory.

_-Part Two: Helping_

One week left. One week left. One week left.

Michael chanted the words to himself as he walked from the common room down to the great hall. Luna, Anthony and Padma were walking with him.

There was one week left before the Christmas holidays. Michael never thought he would want to return home for Christmas. He had never imagined life at Hogwarts would be this bad.

"Do you hear something?" Luna asked suddenly. Michael listened. Somewhere below them, a girl was yelling.

"This way!" Michael said, running along the corridor and down a staircase. They peered around a corner to see Crabbe, Goyle and some other Slytherin standing around a third year Hufflepuff girl. Crabbe was waving a crumpled piece of parchment in front of her face.

"IS IT YOURS?" Crabbe roared at the girl. She was shaking, tears on her cheeks.

"Yes." She whispered. Crabbe cried out in anger.

"Someone should-" Michael started to whisper to Anthony, but before he could finish, Crabbe had cast crucio and the girl was screaming. Michael turned away. "Someone should get Flitwick." He said.

"I will." Padma said, looking slightly sick. The others nodded and she hurried away. Michael turned to Anthony and they nodded at each other before looking back at the girl and the Slytherins. The Slytherins were leaving, Crabbe still holding the girl's parchment in one hand.

"We should follow them." Anthony said, "They're probably taking that parchment to the Carrows. I bet it's got important information on it."

"But what about the girl?" Michael asked. She was crumpled on the floor, crying into her hands.

"One of us should stay with her." Luna said.

"I will." Michael volunteered unexpectedly.

"Ok, let's go then, Anthony." Luna said, and the two of them followed the Slytherins down the corridor. Michael walked up to the girl and crouched down beside her.

"Are you alright?" He asked her. She looked up at him with watery eyes.

"It was a letter from my mum." She whispered. "She's hiding in France."

"Come on." Michael said kindly, picking up her bag and offering her a hand. "I'll take you to Madame Pomphrey, then back to your common room." The girl wiped her eyes and accepted his hand. He helped her up and checked the hallway. "I'm Michael Corner. What's your name?"

"Rose." The girl said quietly. "Rose Zeller."

"I'm sure your mum will be fine, Rose." He told her. "My friends have gone to get Professor Flitwick. And some others are following those Slytherins." Rose looked reassured.

"Thanks." She whispered. Michael smiled and they walked in silence towards the hospital wing. Their pace quickened when they passed the entrance to the dungeons and Michael gripped his wand tighter as a precaution. When it was all clear, they relaxed again. Michael sighed.

"Hogwarts is all wrong now." He muttered, almost to himself. Rose looked up at him with a half-hearted smile.

"On the bright side." She said tiredly, "There's only one week left."

_-Part Three: Healing_

Walls were crumbling. Curses were flying. People were falling. Michael was running.

He stumbled along the stone passage, breathing heavily. To his surprise, Michael felt angry tears prick his eyes. This was his school. And it was crumbling around him.

"Look out!" Someone yelled. And then, out of nowhere, something smashed violently into his side. A tremendous wave of heat blew above his head as he tumbled to the ground. Michael's face collided with the floor and he felt a shooting pain up his jaw. He yelled out in pain and tried to stand up he was pinned to the ground. His ears were ringing and smoke was everywhere. With a mighty cry, Michael pushed hard with his arm, and to his surprise, the weight rolled off of him. Michael sat up and turned to see what had been on top of him. He cried out in shock and surprise: It was Dean Thomas from Gryffindor.

"Dean?" He said. Dean didn't respond. Michael looked around him and saw that the wall beside them had a gaping hole in it. Dean must have pushed Michael out of the way. He crawled towards Dean and pulled him away from the rubble that littered the corridor, propping him up against a sheltered interior wall.

"Dean!" He yelled, shaking his peer's shoulders. "Dean! Wake up!" Michael yelled, his voice cracking. With shaking hands, he lifted his wand "Aguamenti." He said. The water splashed in Dean's face, but didn't wake him. Michael swore. "Bloody Gryffindor hero." He muttered as he placed two fingers on Dean's wrist. Almost as soon as Michael had spoken, Dean coughed and stirred. "Dean! Dean can you hear me?" Michael said worriedly.

"Michael?" Dean muttered. "That you?"

"Yeah" Michael said with a relieved smile. "It's me. Come on, we've got to get moving." Dean grunted as Michael helped him up and the two of them rushed down the corridor, Dean lagging behind.

"Is anyone fighting up here?" Dean asked.

"I think so." Michael said. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, a death eater appeared.

"Watch out!" Dean called, casting a shield charm so strong, it knocked Michael off his feet. The death eater turned to Dean and they began to fight. But Dean was losing; he wasn't using enough attack spells.

"Less defence, more attack." Michael yelled. Dean glared. Michael gritted his teeth in annoyance and sent a spell at the death eater's ankles.

"Bloody Ravenclaw know-it-all." Dean muttered, quickly stunning the fallen death eater. Michael smirked and the two of them continued running.

They came to a staircase, leading down into a nasty looking battle. They exchanged a look.

"You ready?" Dean said. Michael nodded grimly. Dean turned to Michael and shook his hand. "Good luck, mate." He said. Michael smiled.

"You too. Don't get too brave, Gryffindor." He said. Dean laughed.

"Don't be a smart-arse, Ravenclaw." He shot back.

And with that the two boys launched themselves into the battle.


	4. Luna Lovegood by IndigoPearl

**From the Eyes of Others**

_**Luna Lovegood**_

_(with Pansy Parkinson, Lavender Brown and Pomona Sprout)_

_by_

_IndigoPearl (Claire)_

Of all of the people to see her crying it had to be that Lovegood girl – _Loony_ – and she didn't even have the decency to avert her frustratingly intense gaze or make a snide remark like a normal person would do. Instead, she was staring openly at Pansy, ignoring the book lying open in front of her. Pansy had dabbed ineffectually at her eyes with a tissue well on its way to disintegrating, attempting to reconstruct her fiercest scowl.

"What are _you_ looking at, Loony?" Pansy asked the question as aggressively as she could without raising her voice – Madam Pince couldn't stand shouting in the library, never mind crying (tears caused precious ink to run and sacred parchments to bloat), and the last thing she needed was for Snape to get wind of how she had spent her morning.

"Quite a lot of things, really," Luna tilted her head to the side, as though considering the question carefully. The slight movement revealed a radish dangling from one ear. "The bookshelves, the books, the tables, the floor, the-"

"Are you mocking me?" Pansy sniffed angrily, discarding her tissue.

"What? No..." The Ravenclaw peered intently at Pansy, making the other girl have to struggle not to squirm. "Why would you think that?"

Pansy opened her mouth and gestured towards Luna, preparing to explain why it was that the other girl was getting on her nerves. Only, she couldn't put it into words – it was impossible to articulate the wrong that Luna had done.

"I don't know." The admission came from Pansy's lips with a definite forced quality, causing her to wonder – not for the first time – if Luna was capable of using some form of hypnosis. She had the strangest effect on people...

"You know, you shouldn't worry about what he thinks about you, especially not in comparison to others." Luna spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, packing her books into an already bulging floral patterned bag.

"Excuse me?" Pansy stood, slowly, a combination of threat and fear laced through her voice. She didn't want anyone to know about her shame – that she was less appealing to Draco than that plain little Greengrass girl, and that the more time passed the more she struggled to keep his interest.

"That's what I think, anyway." Luna shrugged before shouldering her bag. She swept from the library, leaving Pansy gaping in her wake.

_Advice from Loony Lovegood_... Pansy tried to sneer, but somehow she couldn't quite manage.

**OoOoO**

Lavender squirmed uncomfortably, trying to convince herself that nothing was amiss. Really, with the recent escalation in the rivalries between houses, what she had done was nothing, comparatively speaking. But logic had never been her strongest suit, and Lavender couldn't get rid of the guilt gnawing at the pit of her stomach, no matter how much she had tried to reason it away.

"Stop fidgeting, Lavender!" Impatiently, Parvati slammed the bottle of nail polish down on the table. "That's the last manicure I try and give you when you're in a state."

She knew that it was kind of Parvati to try and cheer her up, but really, Lavender was feeling too glum to care.

"Fine – I'll see you later." Storming out of the common room, Lavender barely noticed the other people in the corridors. When she did, it felt as though they were glaring at her, accusation in their eyes. She marched through the entrance hall and out into the Hogwarts grounds. The wind tugged gently at her hair, causing Lavender to bristle with indignation of the idea of having to style it again.

But that was nothing compared to the effort involved in removing and reapplying her makeup, an inevitable process after tears. No doubt Pansy would be in the girls' bathroom, with her Merlin-only-knew-how-many coats of mascara streaking down her face.

"Are you alright?" Luna Lovegood appeared before her, as though from nowhere. She was, Lavender noticed, wearing a pair of radish earrings.

Why was it that someone as socially awkward as Luna could draw attention to herself effortlessly? And how could she have the gall to take no pleasure in it? It was madness. Lavender had resorted to making fun of others, the lowest of the low, for a few cheap laughs. And she felt awful about it.

"Fine," Realising that she had been rather abrupt, Lavender continued, "Just a bit down, thanks."

"You're not alone, you know. I saw Pansy crying earlier in the library." The words were spoken without a hint of accusation. "I have to go to Herbology now, but maybe you could go and see her."

Without waiting for a response, Luna quite literally skipped towards the greenhouses. Lavender stared at her retreating back, watching Luna's golden hair blow in the breeze. Maybe she was a bit odd, but Luna obviously took good care of her hair. Turning, Lavender headed back to the castle.

**OoOoO**

Why Albus Dumbledore thought that it was acceptable to give her not one but two houses in each one of her classes – the plants were volatile enough without house rivalry and hormones being involved – as she taught about botany filled with toxins and poisons. Still, at least he had ceased putting the Slytherins in with the Gryffindors; Minerva's house actually performed rather well alongside the Ravenclaws. However, there was one problem – the Slytherins saw members of her own house as easy targets. That Greengrass girl had reduced one of her Hufflepuffs to tears, rubbing whatever dubious relationship she had with Mr Malfoy in her face as though it was what all single girls ought to aspire towards. Personally, Pomona would rather be alone...

The flow of her thoughts was disrupted as Dennis Creevey's hand wandered perilously close to the mouth of a Fanged Geranium. Just as its teeth were about to sink into his fingers, Luna Lovegood pulled him from harm's way.

Now that the danger had passed, Pomona continued to observe the scene subtly as she pruned her mandrakes. She watched as Luna fed the Geranium carefully, demonstrating the correct method for Dennis' benefit. Strangely, the plant didn't snap at the girl as her fingers approached. It even allowed her to brush her fingers against its waxy leaves.

Luna's touch with plants wasn't the only exceptional thing about her; as Pomona watched the scene between her and Dennis unfold, she couldn't help but marvel over the way in which Dennis' confidence grew.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson, Luna gave the Geranium a final caress and breezed from the room. There was something remarkable about her, like nothing Pomona had ever seen in any of her students.

**OoOoO**

**Thanks for reading. Please review. **


	5. Penelope Clearwater by Frivolous Flare

_**Penelope Clearwater**_

_(with Percy Weasley, Ernie MacMillan and Draco Malfoy)_

_by_

_Frivolous Flare _

_Fate_

From the start, Penelope had been smitten with Percy Weasley. She would admit, he wasn't the handsomest guy in her classes, nor was he the wittiest, but there was something about him she couldn't help but feel attracted to. Was it his inquisitive eyes? So clever, so blue. Was it that clipped, smart voice of his? His posture? How he held himself? He practically radiated authority. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he was the first person she really connected with in the magical world.

She could still remember her first meeting with him, on the Hogwarts Express. White steam poured from the top, trailing after the scarlet snake as it twisted and turned around hills and past golden fields. She had been sitting in a lonely compartment, awkwardly touching her dark curls. Her hair had been half put up, leaving a few locks to frame her shy face. Her dark eyes were large as she watched the door anxiously. She could hear noise, and lots of it. People were laughing, screaming outside in the corridor and in other sections. There were some girlish squeals from the second years on the other side of the wall, along with deep chortles.

She gave a breathless sigh. She could still remember what her mother had told her at the station. 'It'll be brilliant, honey. You'll have so much fun and make lots of new friends!'

But at the moment, little Penelope wasn't having fun, and she certainly didn't have any friends. Sure, she'd been on the train for less than an hour, but all the other first years seemed to have made friends already.

It was then that Percy walked into her life.

Her first perception of him was a funny one. He was tall, gangly, and looked a bit flustered as he slid the door open nervously. Huge glasses sat on his nose. They were a little wonky. He was already changed into his robes, unlike most, but they were perhaps a bit too big for him. As the door opened, a wave of clamour washed into the compartment, which dimmed when it closed shut again.

Percy looked at her in surprise. "Hullo…"

Penelope gave him a shy smile, but found she couldn't speak.

The boy swallowed and shuffled a little further into the compartment. "Um, is this seat free?" He got a nod in reply, and so sat down rather quickly. There was a pause as neither knew what to say. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke up again. "Um, so, what's your name?"

"Penelope." She barely managed to reply.

"I'm Percy." He held out his hand to shake. Penelope took it. Hers was so small compared to his, but darker. His skin was milky white, which made a huge contrast with his bright copper hair.

_Like a marshmallow on fire…_she thought to herself and then added _a red marshmallow…_upon seeing his face darken. With a horror filled jolt back to reality, she realised she was still holding his hand, even though he was no longer shaking it. She quickly pulled it back, flushing from embarrassment. "Uhh…sorry…"

"Erm, don't worry. No harm done." Percy replied quietly. "So, what's your background? Pure blood? Half blood?"

"Half blood." Penelope answered. "My dad's a wizard, my mum's a witch. She's a nurse."

"Ah." Percy nodded, then said, "I'm from a fully magical family."

"That must be nice." Penelope murmured. "I'll bet you're really good at magic already…"

Percy gave a small shrug. "I don't mean to brag or anything, but I've learnt a few simple incantations and such. Of course, they've all worked, but they were very simple. Unlocking doors for example."

"Really?" She could feel her heart sinking. This boy had already started learning magic; she had only flicked through a couple of her books. Dread filled thoughts filled her mind as she realised that she might be the only one not to have tried any magic. "Could you teach me?"

Percy seemed rather surprised at first. Then his eyes lit up slightly. "Teach you? I'll have a go." He said, though it was obvious he was excited. He felt proud, to be given the chance to teach someone already. "Well," he began, pulling out his wand. "To start with you hold your wand like this."

Penelope took out her own wand and copied his actions, biting her bottom lip in concentration as she watched him. "Okay."

"Now, do a small swishing action, like so, and say 'Alohamora'." He demonstrated. The wand was brought sharply downwards and he said the word with relish. Although nothing happened, as there was no lock to cast on, but there was a small buzz.

Now it was Penelope's go. She mimicked his actions exactly, and was rewarded with a similar buzz. Her eyes went wide and she smiled. "I did it!"

Percy matched her smile. "You picked it up very quickly."

Penelope blushed; her face was embarrassed but hinted hidden pride. For the rest of the journey, Percy taught her spells and it turned out she had a real knack for them. They talked as well. They talked about each other and their families. Percy found out that Penelope was an only child, and her father lived far away as his job required him to. He came home every few months for a couple of weeks and was then off again. She and her mother missed him a lot.

Penelope found out that Percy was the third of seven children, six boys and a girl. His older two brothers were currently at Hogwarts, and it was from then and their friends he had escaped from at the beginning of the journey. The next two Weasley's, troublesome twins by the names of Fred and George, wouldn't start Hogwarts for three years. A year later would be the youngest boy, Ron, and after that the baby of the family, Ginny.

She listened to all of this avidly, smiling at the stories he told her of the twins' antics. He gave her sympathetic looks as she told of how she wished she had a sibling, as she was always lonely at home when her mother was out.

They were at Hogwarts all too soon.

Penelope wouldn't admit out loud that she was disappointed when Percy was sorted into Gryffindor and herself into Ravenclaw. From what she had gathered, the houses were in a competition against each other. Would she still be able to be friends with Percy, or even talk to him, if he was in a different house?

She drooped into an empty seat at the Ravenclaw table, next to two blonde girls who looked almost exactly alike, although one was taller and older. They were chatting happily to each other, but when the younger saw Penelope sit next to her, she gave her a bright smile.

"Hello! My name's Gina! What's yours?"

It wasn't long before Penelope made a bunch of Ravenclaw friends, Gina being her closest. But she always reserved a special smile for Percy when she saw him in the corridor was in a lesson with him, and always had it returned.

It was the biggest surprise of her life when, in her fifth year, he asked her out. And, well, you can probably guess her answer.

_Changing Spots_

There were some people in this world that Penelope could just not stand.

Ernie MacMillan was one of these.

He was a first year. She could remember first seeing him. Among a throng of awe filled faces was his slightly smirking mouth. She knew at once that she didn't like him. How he got into Hufflepuff she'd never know.

Of course, as fate would have it, that was when she started seeing him more and more. She could still remember a rather unpleasant meeting with the boy.

He'd been walking along with a group of friends, when his wand fell out of his bag. However, no one seemed to have noticed apart from Penelope and so, being the sort of person she was, picked it up and jogged to catch up with them. "Hey!" she called to get their attention. One of them turned around, a short, plump boy with dark hair and beady eyes. He saw that the fifth year was talking to them, and nudged Ernie and the other boys. Penelope walked over and held the wand out. "You dropped this."

Ernie looked at the want, taking it back after a second of thought. He squinted at her as he stuffed the wooden stick back in his bag then finally grunted 'thanks' before carrying on.

Although it wouldn't really seem bad to most, Penelope couldn't help but be slightly offended by his reply. Yes, he'd said thank you, but surely he could've said it in a more grateful manner?

She's explained this all to Percy afterwards. He had given her a small amount of sympathy, but he obviously didn't get how hurt she really was by the small encounter. But it wasn't long before her soon-to-be boyfriend got a taste of Ernie himself.

It was a rainy, October day when Percy stormed down a hallway in a rage. His ears were bright red, and his cheeks flushes in anger. Unfortunately for Penelope, it was her he first met on his rampage.

"That little…brat!" he steamed, halting in front of her, prepared to vent off all his feelings. "He…ugh, you should've seen him, Penny! Going on about…and completely disrespecting me! Oh, if I were a prefect…" he ranted. He went on like that for quite some time, with Penelope listened quietly.

She would admit, two years later, that perhaps Ernie wasn't that bad. He didn't mean to act like he did, and he was actually a pretty decent chap, especially around his friends.

It was during this year, on a warm day in May; Penelope found something that made her stomach churn. It was a small, dark red book, the inside cover of which had a name scrawled on in neat handwriting.

_Ernie MacMillan_

Penelope swallowed. Obviously she had to return the book, and if Ernie wasn't in his common room then he was probably in the library or outside. She hazarded a guess at the Library and so set off. She marched down the hallway, pretty much quaking in her smart, black shoes. Why was she so panicked? Ernie MacMillan was younger than her by far, so surely she should feel more confident than she did! It didn't make any sense.

Finally, she got to the library and, sure enough, there the blond-haired boy was, talking with his friends, as usual. Penelope bucked up her courage. She was better than this! Book under her arm, she marched over and tapped him on the shoulder.

Ernie turned, faintly surprised. "Yeah?"

Penelope thrust the book in his direction. He paled, snatching it back.

"Where did you find this?" he snapped, stuffing the book in his bag.

"Just in the charms classroom, you must have left it there by mistake." Penelope replied quickly, shifting uncomfortably.

"You didn't read anything did you?"

"No. Well, obviously I read your name, otherwise I wouldn't have known it was yours…"

"Yes, yes, whatever."

Penelope frowned. "You know, a thank you would suffice." She said, holding her chin up, sick of his superior attitude.

"Okay, thanks." He sighed.

Penelope clenched her fists, then turned on her heel and started walking off, seething. "Ungrateful brat." She mumbled, but froze when she heard some sort of commotion going on from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. It seemed the small group of Hufflepuffs had gotten into a scuffle with a couple of older Slytherin lads.

She could only snatch snippets of the fight, but she didn't like what she heard and soon found herself marching back despite her previous thoughts.

"Ooh, a smarty-pants Ravenclaw's come to join us." One Slytherin sneered.

"Oh dear, come to fight us with her magical brain powers." Snorted the other, then put his hands on his head and began making silly noises. "Nynynyyynnnn…"

They sniggered at his lame insults, but it soon faded when they realised Penelope didn't look like she could care less. The first suddenly pulled out his wand, pointing it at her.

"When I'm through with you, you won't have a brain left to use magic with!" he said. Penelope had to stop herself laughing at the rather stupid sentence, but yelped in surprise when a stream of red sparks flew at her. She barely had time to mutter 'Protego', but found she didn't have to. Ernie had stepped in front of her and created a shield just in time. The red sparks bounced off.

Now, Penelope was ready. She smartly flicked her wand and murmured, "Expelliarmus." The Slytherin's own wand flew out of his hand and landed a few feet behind him.

"What is going on?" cried Madam Pince who had rushed over at the sound of magic casting. She saw the wands in Penelope and Ernie's hands and glared. "No magic in the library."

"But Madam-"

"No, Miss Clearwater, you know the rules."

"But-"

"Please, Madam Pince, we were only using magic in self defence." Ernie spoke up, not letting the teacher interrupt him. "They tried to attack her first."

Madam Pince frowned, looking at the wand on the floor, and the wand in the other Slytherin's hand. "Hmmm…very well…"

Penelope was in a bit of shock. She stared at Ernie, who was sticking his wand back in his pocket and not even looking at her. He had just helped her, and then stood up for her. That was the last thing she had expected him to do.

_Maybe_, she thought to herself as she finally left the library to get on with some revision, _he's not that bad after all…_

_Never poke a Dragon_

The Malfoys had always had a bad reputation at Hogwarts. Strangely, they all looked quite similar. They generally had pale blond hair, fair skin, and steely grey eyes. And they all seemed to be the most vain, horrid people you will ever meet. And Draco Malfoy was no exception.

But sometimes, just sometimes, they can show a whole different side; a vulnerable, sensitive side. And again, Draco wasn't an exception.

She found him, one day, hiding behind a suit of armour, watching a group of girls nearby. At first, Penelope had assumed he was planning some sort of devious trick or prank and was about to give him away when she noticed something. There was an emotion in his eyes, one she had never seen before; one that was sad and yet happy. Empty and yet contented; a sense of longing. She looked back at the group of girls, and then at him again. Did Draco Malfoy, known for being cold and sneering and having no respect for anyone but everyone's favourite teacher Professor Snape, have a crush on someone?

_And someone not a Slytherin by the looks of things…_Penelope thought with surprise. _Wow…wasn't expecting that…_

The girls soon moved on, and Draco came out of hiding. He glanced around, as if to make sure no one had seen him then stopped dead when he saw Penelope. He sneered at her in his usual manner.

"What do you want?" he spat. Penelope couldn't help but smile slightly as she strode over casually.

"So, which one?" she asked. She was usually weary of Slytherins, but because of the context, she found herself much more confident.

Draco growled. "What are you talking about?"

"Of those girls, which one do you like?" Penelope questioned, nodding her head at where the girls had just been.

"What do you mean? I don't like any of them." Draco said, glaring now, though his white cheeks had been stained very pale pink.

"Yes you do, I saw it, in your eyes." Penelope shook her head. "So, which one."

Draco wasn't going to give in so easily, however, and so he continued to deny it. "You are obviously mistaken."

"Oh no I'm not, you just don't want to admit it." She shook her head.

There was a long pause before Draco finally sighed. "The red head." He finally admitted, looking away. He looked rather angry with himself as soon as the words left his lips. Penelope, however, smiled in her triumph.

"See, that wasn't so hard. Why don't you try talking to her?"

"What? No. That would be stupid."

"And hiding behind a suit of armour isn't…?" Penelope arched an eyebrow.

"Look, I just can't. It's only a stupid little crush anyway, it'll be forgotten in a day or two." Draco suddenly snapped. He then scowled at her, daring her to say something else.

Penelope was silent for a few seconds, taking in what he had said. "Oh…I see…how long have you had this 'stupid little crush' for, anyway?" she asked curiously.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Draco demanded.

"Well…I was just curious."

"Too long. Besides, it's not really any of your business, now is it?" he drawled. His vain personality came flooding back in a matter of seconds. "Now, I'd advise you keep your large nose out of other people's lives and get back to your own miserable one." And with that, he turned and stalked off, leaving Penelope looking slightly hurt.

"Charming." She muttered, touching her nose self consciously. It wasn't that big, was it? Maybe it wasn't the best idea to poke a dragon, no matter what mood it was in.


	6. Louis Weasley by tat 1312

_**Louis Weasley**_

_(with Andromeda Tonks, Molly Weasley and Hugo Weasley)_

_by_

_tat13123_

When Louis stands in front of Andromeda's door, he realises he really must want to impress that girl. His brother-in-law told him that Andromeda has the biggest Muggle books collection he knew about, "even bigger than your Aunt Hermione's one," he had said.

So Louis doesn't think twice and visits Teddy's grandmother.

When she opens the door, she is quite surprised to see him here. Her eyes are wide and Louis explains, "I have a favour to ask you, Teddy told me about your book collection..."

He needn't finish his sentence, Andromeda smiles to him and gesture to the young man to enter her house.

"Is it for Hogwarts?" she asks once he's in the house.

"I left Hogwarts last year, actually, I'm searching for a muggle book by Roald Dall, something like that. I have the name written somewhere..." Louis reaches in his satchel and gives her a parchment with Charlie and The Chocolate factory by Roald Dahl written on it.

"Victoire told me that you were the smart one of the family, a Ravenclaw if I remember correctly." Louis nods to her. "Interested in Muggle Literature?" Andromeda asks.

"Well," Louis is uncomfortable. "In fact, it's for a girl. I'm searching for one of the first publications for her and I thought that if you had it I could have duplicated it and..."

Andromeda laughs at his discomfort. "I understand." She smiles at him before adding, "I can't say I have read all the books Ted had, but I don't recall this one. You can come in the library though."

She leads him toward the end of the entrance corridor where they were standing. The house isn't much, but when she opens the door of the room, Louis is amazed. There is an atmosphere in there that gives you the want to stay here forever. He enters watching his surroundings. Books, books, two arm chairs by a fireplace and books, everywhere.

"The Muggle books are there," she says. "You can't accio them, I'm sorry," she says. "Ted was very much afraid of damaging them." He nods and makes his way toward the shelf Andromeda pointed. Soon enough, his interested his lost. Near the "Muggle Literature" shelf is the "Medical books" shelf and Louis can't help but browse through the old and rare grimoire. His interest has been caught and Andromeda notices.

The Roald Dalh book is soon forgotten and the two of them start talking about medical researches, muggle and wizard. Louis admires the woman in front of him. She never went to a medical school, yet she knows so much about the subject. Only the missing degree keeps her away from being a Mediwitch. They speak about Andromeda interest in comparing Muggle and Wizard medicine and Louis talks about his ambition to study poisoning in Canada.

Their conversation is interrupted by Teddy coming through the fireplace, with his hair brown, which is a bad sign.

"It's Molly, he says. "Something happened."

Andromeda grabs Louis' arm and apparates them away. Louis knows she sensed he was too weak to apparate alone.

…...

Louis' mind during the two seconds that last the apparition is confused: is she okay? Is she okay?

When he lands in the burrow garden, he knows she's not. His mother is hugging a crying Rose, his aunt Hermione is walking in circles in the garden. Victoire and the baby are both crying. No one notices Scorpius who tries to sooth a very pale Albus.

Louis doesn't cry. He expects those tears, but they don't come. His eyes are dry, his mind is blank. He can't realise it. He stands in the garden and looks around him, it never has been like that. Everything is a mess, everyone is despairing.

The faint pop of his other uncles coming snaps him from his nightmare reverie. Everyone is here now except Charlie. His grandma can't be dead. He needs to see it to believe it.

She's in there, baking treacle tart with Daily Prophet cuts about jobs he could do in England.

He's entering the house and this time, he won't be mad at her for the paper cuts. He won't explain her again he wants to be a Healer specialist in poisoning in Canada. He'll take a job here, and he'll come to eat at the Burrow every evening. He enters the living- room to tell her the news.

And he bursts into tears, because his grandma body is lying in front of him. Andromeda takes him and directs him to the kitchen. Soon, the other cousins come in followed by their aunt Hermione.

Louis doesn't listen to the speech she's doing to them. He doesn't care how his grandma died. All that matter is that she's not there any more. She's not with them and he feels very much empty. All are very silent, even Fred and Roxanne are quiet.

Ron passes his head through the door and calls Hermione back in the living room, where she is. Louis observes his cousins, they never been reunited all together for a long time.

There is always one or another missing at the family gathering lately, but not today. His grandma would have been happy to see them all there sitting at the kitchen table. Molly clinging on her sister's arm when they can't stand each other normally; Fred sitting still; Dominique and Lily side by side without making a scene; Hugo. Hugo who doesn't seem he has cried, Hugo like a statue.

Why isn't she here?

Finally, it's James, who can't handle people crying, that breaks the silence in the room.

"We should make tea or coffee, or something," he says with a hoarse voice which still carries the evidence of him crying.

….

Rose nods and stands to make the tea, but Hugo forcefully sits her back and begin to prepare the tea-pot. Louis can tell he's not well at all, his gesture are faulty, his hands are trembling. He's the baby of the cousin after all and they just lost one of the most important people in their life.

"Let me help you," Louis says gently taking out his wand.

"No!" Hugo screams and with a rapid movement, he reverses the boiling water on his arm.

And Hugo screams, and Hugo cries for the first time that day. Louis has no time to register what happens in the kitchen and who started crying again, he takes Hugo by the arm and leads him outside.

Louis heals the burnt arm, but Hugo's tears continue falling.

"It shouldn't hurt soon," the older boy says.

"I was there, you know," Hugo answers through his sobs. "And I couldn't do a thing. I should have helped! I should have saved her!" His voice is high and Louis can tell he doesn't cry for his arm any more.

"You couldn't do a thing, they said it. No one could have done a thing." He tries to reassure his cousin. With a thud, Hugo sits on the floor and Louis follows him. Hugo cries and Louis holds him, there is nothing else to do.

Louis has never been close to his baby cousin, he's five years older and when you're barely eighteen, it's a huge difference. But Hugo is always so smiling, so happy and charming that Louis can't help but consider her him as his favourite baby cousin (so far away from Lily's rebel attitude or Lucy's snob's one). It pains him to see him like sad.

And while Hugo's sobs decrease, he wonders why they need to lose someone to all be reunited.

It has no sense yet he knows it's in those moments that family matters the most and when Hugo points out that they need to go in the kitchen and reassure the others, he agrees with him but needs to know something before. It feels out of place to think about something like this now, when he should care about his cousin and his family, but he can't help.

"Hugo, I know it's not the moment but... Do you think it selfish that I want to go study in Canada?"

Hugo looks at him with tears in his eyes and says, "It's not selfish Louis, but we'd miss you terribly. Like Uncle Charlie." Who isn't here yet," Louis adds in his head. Without looking back at Louis, Hugo enters the kitchen and Louis makes a decision.


	7. Roger Davies by Double Caramel

**Perfection**

_**Roger Davies**_

_(with Oliver Wood, Millicent Bulstrode and Zacharias Smith)_

_by_

_Double Caramel (Karla)_

* * *

"**Have no fear of perfection – you'll never reach it" - Salvador Dali**

(Unless you're freaking _Roger Davies_)

**-x-**

**|perfection|**

_loved by some, hated by the rest_

. . .

**Those who leap without looking believe perfection is overrated.**

**x**

Few people aren't fond of the Weasley Twins, so, obviously, when Roger Davies said he thought they were childish, Oliver knew he was on _the list_.

_The list_ is nothing but a piece of parchment with names written in a scrubby calligraphy; though for those actually _on_ the list it can be agony. At least, if you don't have a sense of humour.

Most pranks are rather inoffensive unless you're Snape or Filch, who've been fighting for the top spot ever since the list was created back in the twins' very first year.

Of course, after Davies boasted to his little admirers that the twins weren't all that charming as much as they were immature, Oliver knew the Ravenclaw would become a tough contender for the first place.

What Oliver didn't know at first was that the twins would require his help to 'teach Davies a lesson'.

When he found out he tried running; unfortunately, it was too late.

"Oh, come on Oliver," Fred ushered at the older boy who was walking a little too quickly to his Transfiguration class. "All you have to do is slip the vial into Mister Perfect Pant's bag."

"And get detention while I'm at it," Oliver replied. "Who will make sure we win the House Cup if I'm banned from Quidditch?"

George waved him off. "McGonagall has a soft spot for you, and I bet she doesn't like Davies either. Who likes him anyway?"

"His fan club," Oliver, who had given up rushing to class, said, before adding, "I heard Katie went to the meeting last night."

"Traitor," Fred muttered. "_See,_ you must do us this favour. It's the only thing we ever asked from you!"

"If I ignore your moaning and groaning during practise."

"Which you do," George countered. "You don't want your two Beaters getting depressed, do you?"

Both brothers pouted in an exaggerated manner to make their captain see their point.

"Don't be drama queens!" Oliver cried "And how do you two expect me to slip _that_," he looked pointedly at the vial in Fred's hand, "into Davies's bag? Why don't _you _do it?"

"That would be too obvious." Fred answered and George completed, "You can stuff the vial as you compliment him on his hair."

"_His hair?" _

The twins nodded.

"Yeah, ask him what potion he uses, or something. You can use the information to dazzle Katie, though it isn't the best technique to snag her."

"I don't want to snag her. She's _fifteen_." the older boy exclaimed only to be teased further.

Eventually, since nagging wouldn't stop, he had gave up. "Anything to shut you two up!" were his words, as he took the vial from Fred.

If he was honest, he didn't like the younger boy much either. He was sick of his Chasers moving out of his way to check out his arse. Maybe making him a little less _swoon worthy_ (as Katie and Alicia put it) wouldn't be bad.

What harm could it do to make the Ravenclaw a little less _freaking _perfect?

**. . .**

**Those who strive for the illusion of perfection, don't want anyone else to have it.**

**x**

"I owe you a dance, then" the boy said, smiling, making her grow more and more infuriated by the second.

"_Excuse me?"_

_**. . .**_

It's said that perfection is hard to achieve, yet Roger Davies– with his good looks, natural charm and intelligence – came very close to it. Or so the entire female population of Hogwarts seemed to believe; except, well, Millicent.

Don't get her wrong, she did agree that the boy was good looking and polite. Actually, she couldn't remember him ever being less than pleasant to anyone; he was _so _nice to every single person that she sometimes wondered if he was being sarcastic with his remarks.

Nobody would ever catch it if he were, for they would be too distracted with his perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect _everything, _to think of him being a little less perfect at something.

Even she had gotten caught up in the hype – alike all the other girls (and women!) – once upon a time.

Of course, her bubblehead period didn't last long. She prided herself on belonging in Slytherin, and lusting over an older boy who would never give her the time of the day – especially a boy who was so _nice_– was just wrong. Not even Pansy (who did believe Roger was perfect) ever fell that low, and it was no secret amongst Slytherins that she kept an eye on Potter in case things with Draco went wrong.

Since she couldn't date Davies (not that she wanted to, of course), she was determined to prove to every other member of her school that he _wasn't_ perfect, not even a little teeny tiny bit. Many had tried to complete the task before her – the Weasley's, Snape and even McGonagall – but they'd all failed.

However, she believed she would succeed. Perfection was, after all, improbable.

Yet the stupid Ravenclaw seemed to be confident in proving her wrong by smiling her way after she purposely bumped into him, spilled ink over what seemed to be an essay and asked him to the Yule Ball.

She did it in front of a bunch of first-year Hufflepuffs knowing they wouldn't hesitate to spread the word that Roger Davies was nothing but a mean bully who shouted at younger, sweet girls (not that she was sweet, but Hufflepuffs, in her mind, considered everyone – even Professor Snape – sweet).

Unfortunately her plan was ruined by Davies being, well, Roger Davies, and courteously saying that he was fine and that he couldn't go to the Yule Ball with her because he had already asked Fleur.

He didn't even crack a joke about her having to ask boys since none of them would ask her, which honestly annoyed her, since she had mentally prepared a comeback for it.

Back in her common room she claimed his reaction shocked her, and that was the reason she nodded at his dance proposal instead of offending his hair – like she was supposed to.

She decided she hated Roger Davies, he was just too _freaking_ perfect.

**. . .**

**Those who can't have perfection hate it.**

**x**

Jealousy isn't a pretty thing, Zacharias Smith's date agrees.

Because, in her words, '_he suffers from chronic jealousy sprouts'_, he is now alone, sipping a cheap sparkly imitation of champagne in a secluded corner next to Potter and company.

Strangely, and for a change, this time he isn't glaring daggers at the Boy-Who-Lived, who ,in his opinion, always had it too easy - it isn't fair to survive You-know-who's very special Avada Kedavra and still get a shot at being the Tri-wizard champion. Instead he was looking hatefully at the Ravenclaws' poster boy.

If it were any other day, Zach wouldn't have noticed the older boy (Hufflepuffs never paid that much attention to Ravenclaws, that was the Slytherins' job), but after hearing his date rattle about how charming it was that he was dancing with _'poor Millie',_ he had had enough. Roger Davies, as he put it then, was the biggest poof in Hogwarts.

For some abnormal reason his opinion upset Martha, who stalked away, leaving him alone, as she moved next to Roger's fan club to watch him dance with the part-Veela.

He'd apparently ditched 'poor Millie' (who, for Zach, was anything put poor. Or 'Millie', for that matter) and had moved on to better things – Martha and the other girls failed to notice this.

Zach was obviously upset. He'd spent hours cleaning up – hopping he'd get some snogging time with Martha after the Ball – to sit next to Potter and watch people dance. And, since the party was apparently organized by his uptight Potions Professor, he couldn't even get decently inebriated and forget the whole deal.

Some people – like Roger Davies and Potter – just had it all. Others – like him – had to live in their shadow (not that Potter seemed to be enjoying himself that much either).

He just had to accept it; but that didn't mean he wouldn't glare at 'Mister Perfect Pants' the entire evening and hope he gets swallowed whole by some six-eyed monster, leaving his fan club hysterical.

After all, Roger Davies was perfect.

Annoyingly perfect, but still – **perfect.**

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you to Pippi55 for taking the time to Beta this. ^_^


	8. Anthony Goldstein by Julia Claire

**Three Dead Men**

_He thought he knew everything, until people started dying._

_**Anthony Goldstein**_

_(with Cedric Diggory, Fred Weasley and Seveus Snape)_

_by_

_Julia Claire_

I. Cedric_._

Cedric Diggory just been another stupid pretty boy at Hogwarts, the kind of kid that pretended to like everyone when he didn't really care one iota about _any_ of them, especially slightly nerdy boys in Ravenclaw. Anthony had never liked him.

So he wasn't sure why he felt like sobbing all the time now, why he couldn't focus on his studies anymore. He used to stay up late reading ahead in his History of Magic textbook and now, he just laid in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling, wishing away the stupid lump that seemed to have permanently lodged itself in his throat.

It was just… he'd never known anyone that just died before, so suddenly, without warning. Sure, his great-aunt Elise had passed away a few years back, but that had been expected, natural, even, and besides, he'd only met her a couple times. And even though Anthony had probably talked to his great-aunt more than he'd talked to the Golden Boy of Hufflepuff, Diggory's death was one hundred times more difficult to deal with.

There was just something different about someone like Cedric – tall, athletic, young, infinite – just _dying_. One day, he'd been in the corridors, smiling the way that made girls swoon like they never would for Anthony, and the next, he was gone. Death had always seemed strangely distant to him, almost predictable – sick people died, old people died, people he'd never met died. Now, it seemed as if the rhythm had been disrupted, and for the first time, he wondered when _he _would die, and how, and where.

What did it feel like, to have the life snuffed out of you? Had Cedric known what was going to happen before it did, when the jet of green light flashed in front of him?

What did he feel like now? Where _was_ he?

For the first time in his life, he couldn't figure out the answers, couldn't just look it up in a library book. He tried asking the ghosts and the portraits, but there was nothing, no answer, a blank.

Maybe that was what bugged him so much about death. He was smart, Anthony knew that, and he liked – he needed – to know all the answers.

And this time, there weren't any.

II. Fred

He'd never liked Cedric much, but he'd _hated_ Fred Weasley. He'd hated George too, seeing as he never managed to tell them apart. His feelings towards them began as a vague sort of dislike, the same sort of feeling all the "class clowns" inspired in him. Fred and George were loud, annoying, obnoxious, and certainly not funny, but he didn't hate them until fourth year, when he realized they weren't stupid.

It seemed almost backwards, but it bugged him. He'd heard that they only gotten three O.W.L.s each, but they were inventing things that were way beyond _his_ magical capabilities. Those Canary Creams? He couldn't have even explained how they worked, much less have made one himself.

Ginny told him they wanted to start a joke shop, but he didn't get why. Surely, they could do better than _that_? When they actually started Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes a few years later, leading some people to speculate that they'd be millionaires before they turned twenty-one, Anthony was _pissed_. It made him feel like grades and his own hard work didn't matter, didn't mean anything about his intelligence, since the twins had pranked their way through Hogwarts, flown away on their broomsticks instead of graduating, and _still_ managed to start a booming business less than two years layer. He actually refused to go into the shop with Michael the summer before his sixth year.

It wasn't until after Fred's death that he understood. He'd been walking aimlessly around Diagon Alley, hoping to find something, anything, to take his mind off Terri, his friend, who he would never see again. He'd been intending to find a good, uplifting book (one where no one died), but instead, he found himself at the entrance of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He almost turned around, but then said the hell with it. In the face of all that had happened, stupid, schoolboy animosities seemed like nothing.

Fred and George weren't there anymore – he supposed George couldn't face it – but Ron was, looking more determined than Anthony had ever seen him. Before Anthony knew it, he'd walked up to the counter and bought some Canary Creams.

He snuck one into Michael's dinner that night, when he went over there to hang out and talk – or not talk – about Terri. He got this incredible rush when Michael turned into a canary, like he hadn't felt for – Merlin, he didn't know. Maybe ever.

Michael's face was so surprised when he turned back into himself that it made Anthony laugh – hard. Soon, Michael laughed too, and it just felt _good _to laugh like that, with someone else. It wasn't like he'd never cracked a smile before; he'd just always been sort of serious, and the last year, in particular, even before Terri died, had been incredibly depressing.

And in that moment, Anthony got it for the first time. Sometimes, hard work and books, seriousness and even intelligence weren't enough.

Sometimes, you just needed a good laugh.

III. Snape

It was odd, but after seven years of having the same professors, you started to think that you knew them, inside and out. Even hearing the news that Professor Snape had murdered Dumbledore wasn't as shocking as hearing that he'd loved Harry Potter's mum, that he'd been working all his life to save Harry for her.

Learning that Snape was a killer was obviously unexpected, but it sort of _fit_. Snape had always seemed like a bitter, angry man. He was Head of Slytherin and was forever favoring them in his classes. It wasn't exactly a stretch of the imagination to see him as a Death Eater.

Despite all that, however, Anthony hadn't hated him before he'd killed Dumbledore. He'd respected nearly all of his professors, except for Professor Umbridge, because she hadn't _taught_ anything. Anthony could see that Snape was a smart man, and his class challenged him, and so, even though Michael and Terri would always rag on him for saying so, he liked him, as a teacher, at least, if not a person.

That had, of course, changed, at the end of his sixth year. Anthony had loved the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Dumbledore had been his hero, a brilliant man dedicated to teaching others. And so he'd grown to hate a man whose class he had once enjoyed, but the truth was that was anywhere near as hard as accepting that Snape had been a hero, had loved so deeply that instead of turning to revenge on Lily Potter for choosing another man, he'd risked his life to save her son.

It was both amazing and improbable. Shocking. Perhaps, if the he'd been a Gryffindor, it would have been different, but he'd been in Slytherin, the house that was supposed to care only about themselves.

It made him wonder how hard that had been for Snape, how brave he must have been, but most of all, it made him wonder if he would have done the same. Anthony had liked a fair few girls – had even come quite close to loving one in Morag MscDougal – but couldn't imagine being in Snape's position. It made him think a lot about courage and cowardice, heroism and love.

And perhaps that was why the night he proposed to Morag, the imagine of _Snape_ – a man who, during his life, was nothing more to Anthony than a professor he respected – flashed through his mind.

He would, he thought, try to love her as much as Severus Snape had loved Lily Potter.

_They are not the only three men that he knew who ever died, or even the first three, but they stick out in his head. They taught him things that his books never had, that they never could._

_He_ didn't_ know everything, and after their deaths, he realized that he never would._


	9. Rose Weasley by RoseScor90

_**Rose Weasley**_

_(with Minerva McGonagall, Hannah Abbott-Longbottom and Astoria Malfoy)_

_By RoseScor90_

Part I:

Rose Weasley sat patiently in the chair, staring at the empty frame before her. It would seem a silly thing to do, but she had done it so many times before that she had gotten used to it. When finally there was a movement, she sat up straight, preparing herself to meet her mentor.

"Congratulations on your successful graduation Miss Weasley. Why aren't you at the Great Hall enjoying your feast? I don't know of anyone who deserves it more. Except may be Mr Malfoy"

She jumped at the mention of the name and tried to hide it behind a smile. "I wanted to meet you one last time before leaving, Professor"

"You've always been too polite, Miss Weasley. But I'm afraid Albus won't be here today. You'll have to meet him at the Great Hall"

"That's okay" she fell silent, all her enthusiasm lost, now that the thought of her boyfriend of two years had been brought up.

"But that's not why you came here, was it?" the former headmistress looked at her deeply, and Rose found herself nodding.

"Boy troubles, I take it?" she had expected her guide to be exasperated, but she only sounded…neutral and Rose rushed to explain.

"It's not so bad, depending on how you look at it. Scorpius told me he loved me and wanted me to meet his family"

"Do you love him?" the question was simple but the answer wasn't. Rose knew it only too well.

"I don't know" she hung her head, wondering why she had brought this up at all. The former headmistress of Hogwarts had been a spinster all her life and wouldn't make the top of her 'people to seek advice about relationships' list.

"I think the answer is apparent enough. You're only going through a second phase of denial" she stated and Rose was immersed in thoughts of her first 'phase'.

To say that Rose and Scorpius had a history would be utterly absurd. For the first thirteen years of their life, they went about their own business, she becoming the studious and helping bookworm and him, the out-going and charming prankster.

Their worlds had clashed as a result of a chance meeting at one of her cousins' birthday parties (she'd forgotten whose it was) where she had happened to be sitting next to him. They had become friends, and Scopius had toned himself down and helped melt her own proverbial ice heart. When he had asked her out after theirs OWLs, she had blanched. It had taken a lot out of her to accept, but it had been the best decision of her life. She had been so very happy these past two years. But, love…

"Rose, being in doubt is fine as long as you make the right decision in the end. And love doesn't come knocking at your doorstep everyday. Just ponder over it"

"Thanks Professor" Rose left, more confused than she had been but she knew one thing; she'd give it a try.

Part II:

_How long is he going to take?_ Rose sighed as she waited for Scorpius to arrive. He had wanted her to meet his family; His mother, in fact. Judging by the look in his eyes, she had guessed that his mother meant the world to him, even if she had known that before. She had agreed, though her stomach had clenched with nervousness at the thought of meeting the woman whose charisma had made her a wizarding sensation. And then she had chosen to marry Draco Malfoy, who, for all intents and purposes, had been a notoriety back then.

"Isn't he here yet?" hearing the voice of the landlady and her Not-related–by-blood-Aunt, Rose looked up into the smiling face of Hannah Longbottom.

"No. May be he got held with Auror training" she said as she drank the glass of butterbeer placed before her. She was sitting very near to the counter and Hannah had no difficulty in speaking with her as she fixed up drinks for her customers.

"Don't stress over it."

"I can't seem to help it, Hannah. I feel like things are moving too fast. One moment we are sitting next to each other at a godforsaken birthday party and the next, he wants me to meet his family. I don't see why it's such a big thing to him"

"Does it bother you?"

"Meeting his mother? No, that's not it. I just wish…I dunno"

"You wish things were different"

"Yes. You know how my Dad is. He refused to look at me for a week when I told them that I was dating him…"

"You think his mother will react the same way?"

"Yes, Hannah"

"I don't think Scorpius would let it get to that. He's much too bold for that"

"Bold? What does that have to do with anything?"

"You didn't have to wait for three years for him to ask you out, did you?"

"No, but…did Uncle Neville really do that?" she asked in wonder. She realized that she had never heard of their story. Her parents', sure, that was headlines. Her Uncles' and Aunts' was all but legendary. Curiosity piqued, she sat up straight.

"Yeah. He used to come here every Saturday. Sit at the table at the far corner, order a butterbeer, sit there all evening and leave without even taking a sip. Your Uncle might have slain the Basilisk and gone against the Dark Lord wandless, but he was terrified of asking me out"

Rose laughed. That sounded exactly like the thing her Uncle would do.

"I'd considered asking him out many times myself"

"But you never did?"

"He needed to get over his shyness. And how would I help if I kept making his moves? It was irksome, I admit but then he had to learn at some point"

Rose nodded feeling slightly better. If her Uncle could get over his timidity, she could face her boyfriend's mother.

Part III:

Rose gripped Scorpius' hand tight as they walked to the sprawling manor. She did not want to freak out again. The albino peacock had done that once. Scorpius led her to the drawing room, smiling dazzlingly at her. He loved her and it was apparent to anyone who looked at them. But that wasn't going to help her face Astoria Malfoy. She had seen pictures of her, stunning even in her late forties, with raven hair that went right past her shoulder and piercing green eyes whose intensity she had felt even through the magazine cover. She was a woman who Rose both admired and was scared of. She straightened herself to face whatever the outcome. She loved Scorpius and that's all that should matter.

Rose was promptly thrown off as she glanced at the blinding smile that greeted her. Astoria Malfoy did not elegantly climb down the stairs. She rushed past a resigned Scorpius and Rose was engulfed in a hug as tight as her grandma Molly's, nearly suffocating her.

"Mum, you're strangling her. This is why I did not want to bring her home" Scorpius complained though a smile was tugging at his lips, belying his words.

"Oh, hush, Scorp! I'm doing no such thing. You don't want Rose to think that I don't like her, do you?" she scolded and turned to her.

"You look simply wonderful, dear. Do come in" and she led her straight to the kitchen, rather than the living room as she had hoped. Sat at a table facing Scorpius, Rose watched as Astoria finished preparing dinner, silencing her protests for help.

"I heard you are an excellent healer, Rose. Scorpius mentions you only ten times a minute" she commented, earning an exasperated look and a muttered 'this was exactly why I kept you away for so long' from Scorpius.

She smiled reassuringly at him before replying, "I suppose I'm passable at it. But it is something I quite enjoy"

"I wish you could teach some of that modesty to Scorpius. I dunno where I went wrong" she sighed dramatically, eliciting an eye roll from Scorpius.

"Believe me when I say I've tried Mrs Malfoy. Nothing gets through that thick head of his"

Their tinkling laughter was interrupted by Scorpius' whine of, "Tell me, why is this turning out to be 'Bash Scorpius' day?"

"Because you wanted me to meet her"

"Because you wanted us to get along"

Scorpius sighed before he placed his head on the table, trying to be thankful that they weren't biting their heads off. Now that, would be unfortunate.

As the day progressed, Rose was delighted with Astoria. She was vivacious and out-going, yes, but she maintained her cheerful nature enough so that no one would think her haughty. She genuinely seemed to like Rose and had arranged to have lunch with her during the weekend.

As she walked out of the house, Rose laughed at how apprehensive


End file.
